The rebel camp
near Shrewsbury.[Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER,
and DOUGLAS]
HOTSPUR
Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking truth
In this fine age were not thought flattery,
Such attribution should the Douglas have,
As not a soldier of this season’s stamp
Should go so general current through the world.
By God, I cannot flatter; I do defy
The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
In my heart’s love hath no man than yourself:
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
EARL OF DOUGLAS Thou art the king of honour:
No man so potent breathes upon the ground
But I will beard him.
HOTSPUR Do so, and ’tis well.
[Enter a Messenger with letters]
What letters hast thou there?–I can but thank you.
Messenger These letters come from your father.
HOTSPUR Letters from him! why comes he not himself?
Messenger He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.
HOTSPUR ‘Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick
In such a rustling time? Who leads his power?
Under whose government come they along?
Messenger His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
EARL OF WORCESTER I prithee, tell me,
doth he keep his bed?
Messenger He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;
And at the time of my departure thence
He was much fear’d by his physicians.
EARL OF WORCESTER
I would the state of time had first been whole
Ere he by sickness had been visited:
His health was never better worth than now.
HOTSPUR Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprise;
‘Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
He writes me here, that inward sickness–
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul removed but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is disposed to us;
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now.
Because the king is certainly possess’d
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
EARL OF WORCESTER Your father’s sickness is a maim to us.
HOTSPUR A perilous gash, a very limb lopp’d off:
And yet, in faith, it is not;
I rather of his absence make this use:
It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
A larger dare to our great enterprise,
Than if the earl were here; for men must think,
If we without his help can make a head
To push against a kingdom, with his help
We shall o’erturn it topsy-turvy down.
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
EARL OF DOUGLAS As heart can think:
there is not such a word
Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.
[Enter SIR RICHARD VERNON]
HOTSPUR My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.
VERNON Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.
HOTSPUR No harm: what more?
VERNON And further, I have learn’d,
The king himself in person is set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.
HOTSPUR He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daff’d the world aside,
And bid it pass?
VERNON All furnish’d, all in arms;
All plumed like estridges that with the wind
Baited like eagles having lately bathed;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm’d
Rise from the ground like feather’d Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp’d down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
HOTSPUR No more, no more: worse than the sun in March,
This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come:
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war
All hot and bleeding will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh
And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt
Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:
Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
Meet and ne’er part till one drop down a corse.
O that Glendower were come!
VERNON There is more news:
I learn’d in Worcester, as I rode along,
He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
EARL OF DOUGLAS
That’s the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
WORCESTER Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
HOTSPUR What may the king’s whole battle reach unto?
VERNON To thirty thousand.
HOTSPUR Forty let it be:
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day
Come, let us take a muster speedily:
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
EARL OF DOUGLAS Talk not of dying: I am out of fear
Of death or death’s hand for this one-half year.
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